


dancing in circles

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Caught in the Act, F/F, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Spellcest, Spellcest Prompt Challenge, Tumblr: together-as-sisters, Vibrators, sisters literally doing it for themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:58:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: Niece, nephew, and sister are all at the Academy, and Hilda is alone. It would be a bloody shame not to take advantage of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm obsessed with writing about Hilda and Zelda masturbating constantly. One day I'll write something different, but today is not that day. This is for the prompt "caught in the act" for the Together As Sisters challenge. Comments are the greatest ever, so please let me know what you think!

Hilda doesn’t normally do this. 

That is, it’s a deviation from her daily routine. She rises early, makes breakfast, tidies the kitchen, pops in a load of laundry, and then goes to work (either in the embalming room or the bookshop in town). Sometimes, on days with no corpses or reasons to wear that blasted, itchy wig, the sisters will bicker over a jigsaw puzzle. 

Having a...lie down at midday is not something she _ever_ does, but the mortuary is silent. Niece, nephew, and sister are all at the Academy, and Hilda is alone. 

It would be a bloody shame not to take advantage of it. 

Hilda is already flushed with anticipation when she ascends the staircase toward the bedroom she shares with Zelda. Her cheeks flame as she kneels before the trunk at the foot of her bed. A wave of her hand and a silent spell reveals a secret compartment, and she shivers as fingers close around the shaft of a pink vibrator. 

She pulls off her tights, keeps on the dress. 

Hilda considers the two beds, left and right. 

She bites her lip, considers. 

Her own bed is the obvious choice. 

But this is a treat to herself, and Hilda so rarely allows herself to indulge in _this_ , and her choice is made. 

She chooses the right. 

Nestled back against Zelda’s pillows, Hilda tilts her flushed face into the fabric, deeply inhaling the lingering scent of cigarettes and French shampoo. There is something else, something uniquely _Zelda,_ that makes her ache. Hilda moans her sister’s name. 

Hilda is already slick between her legs, has been building up the anticipation since waking. She’s been considering her favorite fantasies all morning, flickers of depraved, delicious scenes that she has been getting off to for centuries. Is she in the mood to fantasize about taking Zelda from behind at the breakfast table? Or perhaps being eaten out atop her grandfather’s mahogany desk in the office? 

She is spoiled for choice. 

She chooses, instead, an old, simple favorite: Zelda on top of her, here in this bed. 

Hilda settles back, making herself comfortable. She draws her dress up her thighs until it is rucked up around her waist. 

She really, really needs this. 

She _deserves_ this. 

Hilda closes her eyes and drags her fingernails along the inside of her thighs, imagining that they belong to her sister. 

Zelda had been resplendent in plum that morning, a tailored suit hugging every delicious curve of her body, accentuating the mouth-watering slopes of her hips. It had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to stare at her sister during breakfast, to imagine what it would feel like to sink her teeth into Zelda’s exquisite arse. 

She doesn’t have to hold back now; Hilda’s plump lips part to let out a strangled moan. 

They’ve spent so long in this bedroom, side by side for over a century, and Hilda can easily recall the bright glint of that rose gold hair in the sunlight strewn through curtains. She cups herself through the damp cotton of her knickers, hissing as she imagines Zelda’s scarlet-painted nails dragging along the length of her slit. Hilda decides that she doesn’t want to imagine a gentle Zelda; she wants her sister in all of her rough, raw, urgent glory. 

Hilda twists the base of her vibrator, biting her lip as it jumps to life in her hand. 

Her sex clenches in anticipation. 

“Zelda,” she whispers, pressing the head of the toy against her clit through wet cotton. She moans, lips parting as her hips arch into the vibrator, chasing the delicious current of energy thrumming through her. She can feel it everywhere, in her blood, in her teeth, in the hairs on her arms. She rocks into the familiar sensations, her hips dancing in a rhythm perfected over decades. How much more delectable this would be if Zelda were guiding the toy against her swollen sex, whispering nasty promises.

“Oh Satan, Zelds...yes…”

Hilda loves the drag of fabric against her clit and strains against the friction, groaning in a throaty cadence that sounds downright obscene for the middle of the day.

She is arching back against her sister’s mattress, her mind a rolodex of scintillating images: Zelda’s pert tits, Zelda’s pale thighs, Zelda’s sinful, pink lips. She cries out a stuttering moan and thus does not hear the front door.

The mattress springs creak as she rocks her body against the vibrator, and she does not hear the quiet click of heels on the stairs. 

Hilda is moaning, on the edge of a toe-curling climax, when the door opens.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in a plot twist surprising to no one, I wrote more spellcest smut. I can't help myself. I'm addicted.   
> let me know what you think -- comments make my day and I love hearing from my favorite fandom <3

She senses it as soon as she walks into the mortuary, the change in the energies of her sister’s magic. At this hour, she expects telltale clatter from the kitchen as Hilda prepares an elaborate lunch for herself and whichever Spellman should choose the sanctuary of home as respite from the outside world. 

Spellmans have always preferred the company of Spellmans. 

There is silence on the first floor. 

Magic pulses on the second. 

Zelda could no sooner turn away from this siren song than renounce the Dark Lord’s delicious teachings. She climbs the stairs; with each step, clarity settles, and her cheeks flush at the realization of what is happening in their bedroom. 

She pauses outside the door. She should respect Hilda’s privacy, should allow her this erotic solitude. 

But Zelda has yearned for her little sister for an entire lifetime, and prudish Hilda is fucking herself with a vibrator on the other side of the door, and Zelda is weak. 

She has never denied that she is selfish. 

She has to see. 

She turns the knob; of course her foolish sister would leave the door unlocked. But then Zelda opens the door, sees Hilda on _her_ bed, grinding her hips against a vibrator that she is certain was discontinued in 1993 and, oh Lucifer, has Hilda just whimpered Zelda’s name? Her legs are spread wide; the gusset of her cotton briefs is soaked through. 

Zelda’s mouth waters. 

Her sigh escapes parted lips, so gentle it would have been imperceptible to the untrained ear. But this is Hilda, who has heard every sound, learned every expression, is the expert on all things Zelda, and her vivid blue eyes snap open. 

“Satan’s hoof!” Hilda cries, trembling hands dropping the vibrator. Color blooms in her cheeks as she clamps her legs shut, hikes her dress down her thighs, and scrambles to turn off the toy before it buzzes itself right off the bed. Hilda’s wetness smears on the bedspread.

Hilda is now the most enticing shade of red, and Zelda’s mouth goes dry. She enters the bedroom and closes the door behind her. 

“I--I’m sorry, Zelds,” Hilda stammers, looking anywhere but at her sister. “I didn’t expect --” 

“Clearly,” Zelda replies coolly. “You don’t have to stop on my account.” 

Hilda’s eyes are wide as she looks up, meeting Zelda’s gaze. She bites her lip. 

It would be easy for Zelda to explain that she is far from angry that her sister dearest is masturbating in her bed, but the older witch has never enjoyed making things easy for Hilda. Her eyes skim over Hilda’s form. She is delightfully rumpled, from her hair to her wrinkled dress, and Zelda has never wanted anyone more than she does in this moment. 

“I wish you wouldn’t tease.” Hilda buries her face in her hands and wails. 

“It’s perfectly natural, sister,” Zelda drawls, leaning back against the door. “There is no reason to be ashamed.” 

“I’m not _ashamed_...” 

Zelda raises an eyebrow. 

“You weren’t supposed to see this.” 

“No?” She steps closer, stopping at the foot of her bed. She can smell Hilda’s arousal now and her lips part in surprise. “Perhaps you are the tease, Hildegard, arranging yourself like a present on my bed. Perhaps you set this up on purpose, hoping I would find you.” 

Hilda bites her lip. “I didn’t!” 

Zelda hums. “More’s the pity.” 

The blonde tilts her head in confusion. “Zelds?” 

“All these centuries together, and I’ve never once caught you in the act. I was beginning to think you never indulged in pleasures of the flesh.” 

“I… _indulge_ ,” Hilda sniffs defensively. “You sound almost disappointed about that.”

“And you, Hilda, sound like you want for me to be disappointed.”

The blonde scoots to the side of the bed, preparing to hop down to her feet, but Zelda blocks her retreat, stomach pressed to her sister’s knees.

“Sister, you haven’t finished.” 

Hilda swallows. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

Zelda chuckles, trailing her fingers along Hilda’s knee. “Do it now.” 

“But you--” 

“I want to watch.” She leans in, caressing her knuckles along her sister’s cheek. “I think you want me to watch too, don’t you, sister?” 

“Zelda...if you’re joking…”

“I’m not joking, you ninny.” She reaches for the vibrator in her sister’s hand, covering Hilda’s fingers with her own. “Be quiet and listen.” 

Zelda opens her mind, her thoughts, her deepest desires. Memories flash through her mind: peeking through keyholes for stolen glances of her naked sister, fucking other people but thinking of Hilda, touching herself while watching the witch sleeping beside her. It’s all there, a lifetime’s yearning confessed in thoughts loud enough for an untrained empath to be bombarded. But Hilda has been perfecting these skills for centuries, and Zelda recognizes the exact moment when Hilda understands.

“All this time…?” Hilda asks, blue eyes wide. 

Zelda nods and guides Hilda’s hand to the base of the toy. It hums to life in Hilda’s hand, and the blonde witch jolts. 

“Please,” Zelda begs, her voice ragged and raw. “I need to see you.”

Hilda grabs a fistful of dress. “Go sit down,” she says, nodding toward her bed. 

“If we are negotiating,” Zelda says, sitting pristinely on Hilda’s bed, legs crossed at the knee. “Might I request you remove the Hanes?”

Hilda rolls her eyes and shimmies her knickers down her thighs. Zelda watches as they are discarded on the floor. Her blood roars in her ears as her little sister pulls her dress up her thighs and spreads her legs. 

Hilda’s cunt is pink and wet and swollen, and Zelda licks her lips. She grips the mattress. “Gorgeous,” she whispers, reverent. 

“All this time you’ve been killing me,” Hilda begins, teasing the vibrator along her inner thigh, “and we could have been having so much more fun—mmmf.” 

Zelda groans at the moment the toy buzzes against her sister’s sex, her hands clutching hard at the edge of the bed. “How does it feel?”

Hilda is flushed, her hips rocking slowly against the vibrator. “Good. It feels g-good.” 

“ _Good?_ Is that all?” Zelda watches the hypnotic glide of hot pink silicone against dark pink slickness.

The blonde bites her lower lip. “It’s wonderful. It’s so in-intense--ooh, sweet Lucifer…” Hilda’s eyes are clouded with lust, and Zelda has never seen her like this; she will never forget the sight, will never find her sister more beautiful than she does in this moment--aroused, open, and trusting. That she has shared this with Zelda and no one else grips hard at her chest. 

“What were you thinking about before I came in, sister?” 

Hilda’s eyes close, lips parting to emit a guttural moan that Zelda feels directly between her legs. 

“You,” Hilda whimpers. “It’s always you, Zelda.” 

Zelda responds with a groan. She watches her sister, legs spread obscenely wide, vibrator humming insistently against her sex. Those glistening folds beckon to her. 

Older sister sinks to her knees on the floor, trembling hands reaching for little sister’s golden thighs. Hilda moans at the feel of Zelda’s fingers on her and meets Zelda’s hungry gaze. 

“Oh Satan, Zelda...what are you...” Hilda’s hips jerk, and Zelda bites her lip. 

“I wanted a better view,” she replies, voice thick with arousal. Hilda’s musky scent is all around her, and Zelda feels drunk with it. She wants so badly to gather that wetness against her tongue and taste her bittersweet essence. She digs her fingers into Hilda’s thighs, pressing her legs further apart. “You’re magnificent, Hildegard.” She turns, peppering her sister’s knees with kisses. “Perfect.” Sharp, white teeth nip at the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“Zelda….are we really — ?”

The older witch covers Hilda’s hand with her own, pulling the toy away. The blonde witch’s whine of protest dies in her throat as Zelda’s painted lips wrap around the head of the vibrator.

Zelda’s groan is downright feral as she tastes her sister, and she takes as much of the toy into her mouth as she can, swirling her tongue around the shaft. 

“Satan…” Hilda whispers desperately. “Zelda, I need…”

Zelda pulls away and licks her lips. “I know what you need, Hildegard.” In one swift motion, Hilda’s thigh has been hoisted over Zelda’s shoulder, and then she is leaning in, sealing her mouth to the other woman’s cunt.

She has only just begun when Hilda seizes up, shouts a strangled “Zelda!”, and comes. Her hips rock urgently against Zelda’s mouth, body convulsing against Zelda’s greedy tongue until she slumps back, spent, against the mattress. 

Zelda licks her lips and rises slowly to her feet. Hilda is sprawled across her bed, one hand pressed to her flushed, panting bosom. Her dress is rucked up around her waist. The blonde thatch between her legs glistens. 

Zelda has been starved for Hilda for a lifetime; now that she has tasted her, she is ravenous. 

Hilda whimpers, has heard Zelda’s yearning and feels the same. “I need to see you, sister.” She echoes Zelda’s desperation, wide eyes staring, pleading. 

Zelda nods. Magic pulses, heady and delicious, around them, and she reaches for the buttons of her blazer. 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Have certain prompts you'd like to see done for a future Together As Sisters challenge? Head over to Tumblr and let me know!


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